


Two Broken Boys

by dancingpen808



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingpen808/pseuds/dancingpen808
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of two boys who are broken.<br/>This can never end well; but then again, you already know how it ends.<br/>I'm just here to tell you everything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Lonely Little Boy

It started in September with a lonely little boy in a lonely little compartment on a train filled with people. He hadn’t even bothered to ask to sit with anyone, but could you blame him? Remus had been an outsider his whole life.  


Growing up a werewolf isn’t easy, let me tell you that. And Remus Lupin--who had always been a little bit smaller than everyone else, whose thin brown hair had never been quite the right color to be fetching, whose introverted nature had been cute when he was smaller but now was a bit concerning-- had a harder time then most pre-pubescent lycanthropes, if that was possible.  


The trouble was, Remus really was a nice bloke. He was plenty intelligent, if serious at times, but he still loved talking to people- but people never seemed to want to talk to him.  


So when the door to that lonely little compartment rattled open one hot September 1st, it would be safe to say Remus was surprised.  


In sauntered three boys-- one was tall and shockingly good-looking, who carried himself like a king, slouching but somehow at the same time keeping his nose high in the air. The next wore a sly grin proudly on his face, dark hair sticking up in the back and slightly crooked glasses that rested idly on his nose. The third was a surprise, though. He was squat and chubby in an endearing kind of way and had a touch of eagerness in his step that betrayed the fact that he had spent his whole life running after people who were “better” than him, as he was doing now. Remus’s eyes widened as he regarded the new stranger, whom he recognized as one of his own- a pariah. But what was one of them doing with boys like the other two?  


“Is it alright if we sit here, mate?” the second boy drawled in a northern accent. Remus tore his gaze away from the smaller boy and turned instead to the one who had spoken, pausing for an awkward second too long.  


“Oh yeah, of course,” he said, rushing to move his bags from the seats around him. The trio slumped into the now-vacated spots. The one who had spoken nodded in greeting.  


“I’m James. Nice to meet you.”  


“Remus.”  


“And I’m Peter,” the short one offered in single hushed breath. Remus smiled back at him, and then turned expectantly to the third boy who was now staring out the train window. Upon realizing that he wasn’t about to say something, James nudged the boy sharply in the ribs. He turned his head slowly, eyebrows raised in what was almost a challenge.  


“Sirius. Sirius Black.” Remus felt like bursting out laughing at the pure drama that lingered to every syllable as it tumbled out of Sirius’ mouth but upon catching another glance at the boy’s threatening, stormy grey eyes, thought better of it.  


“Right, nice to meet you,” He said brightly. James rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘sorry’ with an apologetic grin, and Remus waved it off with a slight smile.

The train ride had been awkward at first. It seemed that the three boys had known each other years prior to meeting on the train. At least that explained why Peter was hanging around with the other two, Remus reasoned. But soon that would change. New school, new people, new friends. When the only thing binding a friendship together was the fact that it had existed for so long, it was bound to fall apart. Remus had been burned by that cruel fact before.

James and Peter had initiated polite small talk with him for a couple of miles, but it soon was clear they weren’t really interested in being friends. And Sirius- well Sirius had barely said three sentences, choosing instead to brood silently out the window the entire ride, his long hair draping over the sharp planes of his face. The four of them sat uncomfortably for a second until Peter spoke again. 

“So, Remus, what do you like to do?” Peter asked. 

“Loads of stuff, I guess. I really like reading--“ at this point Remus was cut off with a derisive snort from the form sprawled dramatically against the window, but continued after a disconcerted glance in that direction. 

“--and music. Bands like Led Zeppelin, Blondie, you know?” Sirius once again cut him off. 

“You listen to Zeppelin?” he asked in pure disbelief, a strange grin on his face. He was leaning forward now, his fingers met in a temple as he rested his arms atop his open legs. Remus was confused. 

“Yes…?” it trailed off into a question. Sirius let out what could only be described as a bark of laughter then leaned against the wall of the train again. But this time he turned his head towards Remus and watched him intently. Only slightly perturbed, Remus turned back to the other two. 

“What house do you reckon you’ll be in, Remus?” The question came from James, who was now leaning against the back wall of the train, a bored net cast over his face. 

“Oh, I don’t really know. I really like school, so maybe Ravenclaw.” James let out a disinterested nod and turned towards Sirius. James had seemed so friendly when the two had first met, but now he reminded Remus of a cat who bores of the mouse its been chasing in favor of more difficult game. 

Sirius glanced back over at James and the two of them held each other’s gazes for a second, seeming to communicate some secret message to one another. Abruptly they broke off and Sirius looked back out the window. 

Remus looked in confusion at Peter, wondering if he’d noticed, but the smaller boy was staring at the train door, the disappointed expression of someone whom had seen this exclusive conversation happen several times too many written on his face. So Peter was friends with the two, but the three of them weren’t close, Remus deduced. Sirius and James had a select bond. 

The foursome was saved the trouble of another uneasy quiet spell as the rattle of the trolley cart grew louder and the door was pushed open. 

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” Remus scanned the smorgasbord of familiar candies but nothing really struck his fancy. 

“Do you have any chocolate?” He inquired. 

“Sure,” she answered with a quick smile, deftly pressing the bar into his palm with one hand and snatching the sickles out of his hand with another. She looked around expectantly at the other boys. James and Peter both bought chocolate frogs, but Sirius simply shook his head in dismissal at the witch, though he wore a slightly flirtatious smile as he did so. Remus inwardly rolled his eyes. 

Soon the door snapped shut, the cart rattled off and the only sound that filled the carriage was the rattle of the trains wheels on the track and the noisy sound of eating as James and Peter finished off their chocolate frogs and compared cards. Remus was looking at Sirius, who was watching the other two with an amused expression on his face until he noticed Remus’ gaze, upon which he dropped back into a scowl and turned back out the window. 

It wasn’t long before James stood abruptly and stretched. 

“I think I’m going to take a look around the train. Anyone fancy coming with?” He looked around at the other boys.

“I’ll go!” Peter volunteered eagerly. 

“Sounds great…” James trailed off disinterestedly, looking at Sirius. 

“I’ll pass. Have fun, mates,” Sirius said with more warmth than Remus had heard him use the entire time he’d known him. James turned to Remus as a last resort, the unspoken question of desperation on his face. Remus shook his head, and James turned to look at Peter. 

“Right then, guess it’s just you and me,” he said. Peter smiled brightly back at him and the two left the compartment. Sirius watched the door shut behind them, then turned silently back to the window he had been contemplating for nearly the whole ride. 

Remus reached for the candy he had brought, the plastic wrapper wrinkling loudly under his fingers as he unwrapped it. 

“D’you want some chocolate?” he asked, presenting the bar to Sirius. The other boy looked up in surprise for a second, and studied Remus’ face for a moment, as if wondering whether to trust him or not. 

“Yeah, I would, actually,” he said, leaning forward and breaking off a self-entitled half. Remus tucked the rest of the chocolate back into his bag hurriedly and looked back at Sirius, who had already managed to finish his. 

"So what about you?” Remus queried. “What house do you think you’ll end up in?” A dark shadow crossed Sirius’ face and he sank back into his seat, as if shying away from Remus. When he looked up, his expression was guarded and one eyebrow was raised challengingly. 

"I’d like to be a Gryffindor,” he said carefully, still watching Remus’ reaction. 

“Right then,” Remus responded, bemused as to why that was such a big deal. More silence. Then, 

“So you really listen to Zeppelin, huh?” Sirius asked with another laugh. 

“Yeah,” Remus answered, laughing with him. “Why is that such a surprise?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius paused for a moment, studying Remus thoughtfully. “You don’t seem the type.” Remus held his gaze for a moment and opened his mouth to say something when the train door slid open and James and Peter came back in. 

“You might want to change into robes, Remus ” James said, slumping down into an empty seat. We’re almost here.”


	2. I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a new group of friends that he never thought possible, Remus begins to adjust to life in Hogwarts.

It wasn’t sudden, but Remus had begun to smile more. After their brief meeting on the train, James and Peter had seemed to consider Remus one of their own, saving him the awkward choice of where to sit at dinner and who to talk to during classes. Even Sirius had warmed a little. The boy still regarded Remus with that sad, stormy gaze but when Remus would take out a book at the dinner table or excuse himself from whatever they were doing to go and study, he seemed to give off an aura almost of exasperated fondness, instead of the irritation Remus had expected from him. 

But a part of Remus suspected that Sirius and James only kept him around as a distraction for Peter. For whatever reason, the two of them seemed to feel some sort of obligation towards him, almost to protect him. But not in the way of a mother or someone who cares, instead with the faint annoyance of an elder brother that gets stuck chauffeuring his sibling around town. 

So it was that the four of them settled into an easy routine in their first few days of Hogwarts. It was made easier by the fact that they all shared a dorm together, with another first year who for some reason never seemed to be present. 

The only thing Remus found slightly off-putting about his new group of friends was how little they seemed to care about school. Peter was simply not that intelligent, he reasoned to himself. But James and Sirius were bright--they had plenty of potential and he had seen what they could do. He just couldn’t understand why they didn’t try. 

It often amounted in late nights and drooping eyebrows, midnight study sessions in which Remus would attempt to re-teach the entire class to James and Sirius hours before the test would arrive. And the amount of essays he’d written for the two of them, even in just the first few weeks of school had to be some new record for “nerd taken most advantage of.” 

But on the whole he didn’t mind helping them with their schoolwork (or, to be more accurate, he didn’t mind them occasionally helping him with their schoolwork). With the three boys, Remus had found something he had never thought possible—a group of friends that truly liked him, ones that pretended to look interested when he lectured them on 18th century literature and didn’t ask too many questions when he got mysteriously called away to the nurses’ office every month. 

So as the last lingering traces of summer wore away and bright oranges and reds washed over the golden tinge in the air, Remus felt a strange sense of contentment settle in his stomach. He was happy here.


	3. December

It wasn’t until December that the warm solid feeling in Remus’ stomach started to slip, as did everything else in his life. And, as was becoming the norm at his new school, it was all because of Sirius. 

Everything begun to fall apart one seemingly harmless morning at breakfast, as owls swooped in between the rafters and dropped thick parcels, ink-leaden news papers and thin envelopes into expectant laps (and the occasional jug of orange juice). None of the boys got mail on a regular basis except for James, and sometimes Remus. Peter’s parents were apparently quite wealthy and always vacationing on some exotic island, and all that would come in the mail for him seemed to be a glossy moving postcard and a hastily scrawled “Wish You Were Here!” on the back. 

But Sirius never got mail at breakfast. Until one morning he did. 

The letter dropped heavily into his lap and he glanced around the table as if waiting for someone else to lay claim to it until his eye caught on a heavily embossed seal on the corner and his surprised expression dropped into a scowl faster than Remus would have thought possible. It didn’t take long for Sirius to unceremoniously shove the rest of his toast in his mouth, sling his book bag over his shoulder and stalk out of the Great Hall, his knuckles clenched so tightly around the crisp paper envelope in his hand that it bowed inwards and wrinkles splayed like whiskers across the surface. 

There was a hesitant pause for a second at the table, where all three boys watched Sirius’ retreating back exit the room and then another pause as they all turned to their plates, not quite sure what to say. And then James was standing up and grabbing his bag with far more composure than Sirius had exhibited and striding quickly in the direction his friend had gone. 

That left only Remus and Peter at the table, clearing their throats intermittently and chewing too loudly to be normal. 

“What do you reckon that was about?” Remus asked, all at once breaking the lull. Peter answered a little too quickly and it became clear he had been turning the matter over in his mind. 

“Did you see that crest?” he asked, his bulbous eyes wide and his fingers twitching oddly. Remus nodded. 

“That was his family crest,” Peter finished with an odd air of finality, as if that ought to clear everything up. 

“And…?” Remus prompted him.

“Oh, right, I’d forgotten you don’t know yet,” Peter continued, a smug glint in his eye. Remus very much doubted he’d forgotten. 

“Know what yet?” Remus interjected, trying and failing to keep exasperation from tingeing his voice. 

“Let’s just say Sirius and his dear old parents don’t have the best of relationships.” The tone Peter was going for was sympathetic, but it turned out horribly gleeful, and Remus got the distinct impression that Peter was delighted to have this piece of gossip to share with him. 

After a simple “oh,” Remus found he had nothing more to say and returned to his breakfast, determinedly slogging through the remainder on his plate, and then making a beeline for History of Magic, not bothering to wait for Peter. 

Neither James nor Sirius turned up for the class, and Remus didn’t see either of them until after Care of Magical creatures had ended and he was trudging back to Gryffindor common room, nursing a burn from a Blast-Ended Skrewt. On the way he’d mentally prepared himself for a long series of brooding glares and sharp comments from Sirius. He had not, however, anticipated finding James and Sirius sprawled out in front of the fireplace, eyes shining and oddly devious grins on their faces as they crouched before a series of faded blueprints fanned out before them.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Okay, run me through this again,” Remus said, running a hand through his bangs as he tried and failed to conceal the decidedly skeptical look scrawled across his face. 

“Right,” replied James brightly, his eyes shining with decidedly more enthusiasm and excitement for this project than he had for any of his assignments all year.

“The plan is simple. We only need you for the last bit, really. Here’s how it’s going to work—tonight at midnight we sneak out of Gryffindor tower and take this route out of the castle—“

James broke off as he leaned forward, indicating a path on the aged map spread in front of him, the grease of his finger leaving a slight shine trail on the parchment. 

“Then we pop down to the lake, you do your thing, and—voilà! Bob’s your uncle!” He sat back, beaming proudly, but his enthusiasm was quickly cut short by a derisive snort from Sirius. 

“Bob’s your uncle?!” He asked incredulously, learning forward in the dusty old armchair he had been sprawled in. James looked affronted. 

“It’s muggle slang. I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about it.” James responded haughtily. Sirius opened his mouth to respond, a delighted grin on his face, when Remus cut them off. 

“Right,” he said pointedly. The two turned their gazes back to him and he continued. “So we go down to the lake and I…what? What is it exactly that you need me for?” Sirius blustered. 

“Wha-Remy! Of course we need you there,” Sirius said through his best attempt at a sincere smile. Remus shot him a look. 

“Fine,” Sirius said, dropping the grin. “We need you to enchant the squid.” 

It took a couple of seconds for Remus to respond, partially because he didn’t know how to. 

“You want me to…. enchant the squid?” He asked, his thin voice run through with utter confusion. 

“To sing. We want you to enchant it to sing,” James said with a nod, as if that ought to clear everything up. 

Remus felt his brow draw together and his head tilt. Millions of questions, hundreds of protests and apprehensions of getting caught paraded through his mind. Yet inexplicably, he found himself sighing in consent. 

“What song?”


	4. A Harebrained Scheme

Looking back on it, Remus knew this was his own fault. Knew that he had agreed to the harebrained scheme, knew that he had stolen out of the common room at midnight with the other three, knew that he’d spent hours in the library searching for the right spell and later that night enacted it of his own accord. Still, he couldn’t help sending a sharp jab into Sirius’ ribs as the taller boy stood beside him, earning Remus a sharp scowl. Remus scowled back.  


The four boys were crowded awkwardly together in front of a large wooden desk. Everything in the office was rigid. Books sat stacked neatly ontop of one another, their spines perfectly aligned, page markers all protruding out exactly half an inch from any given text. A faint, misplaced scent of pine needles hung in the air and in the strained silence, Peter suddenly sneezed.  


As if prompted by the sound, Professor McGonagall leveled her steely gaze from a paper she had been scribbling on to make eye contact with each boy. Her lips creased into a line and she abruptly set down her quill and stood up, suddenly looking much more imposing than she had during their transfiguration lesson earlier that day. Beside him, Remus felt James draw imperceptibly backwards.  


“I assume you all know why you’re here.” Her tone was even but downright cold and Remus’ heartbeat quickened a pace. Peter begun nodding vigorously. James simply looked down at his shoes, while Sirius remained impassive, staring with an eyebrow cocked at a nondescript point on the wall.  


“Nothing, I repeat, nothing gives a student the right to walk about the school at night. What did you think you were doing?” Silence lapsed for a few moments before James opened his mouth, and then closed it again, a plausible excuse apparently evading him.  


“I suppose you thought you were being funny? Well I’m sure your classmates will all find it charming how you’ve managed to lose your house 100 points.” James suddenly found his voice.  


“100?! Professor you couldn’t do that, not to your own house!”  


“I can and I will, Potter. And just to ensure you’ve all learnt your lesson, detention will be awarded to each of you.” James let out an outraged noise, but remained silent otherwise. Professor McGonagall seemed satisfied. She sat back down and tucked a single black hair that had escaped from her bun behind her ear.  


“Mr.Filch will escort you back to your common room. I encourage you all to think more thoroughly about the consequences of your actions the next time you’re hit with the desire for a midnight stroll.”  


The four of them shuffled miserably out of the room. A tense ball of shame, guilt and embarrassment had bloomed in Remus’ stomach. As he and the others moved down the hall, their way lit by Filch’s torch and his infernal cat dodging around their ankles, Remus questioned for the first time the friends he had fallen in with.


	5. Lost for Words

“I have work to do, Sirius.” Dusty light swirled in from one of the library’s vaulting windows and beneath Remus, the hard wooden chairs of the library cut into his legs. He impassively flicked to the next page in the large tome he was reading, stirring up even more dust than what already hung in the air.

“Yeah, I know, you have my work to do.” Sirius was, as usual, breaking the school rules. At a sharp glance from Madam Pince, he swung his lanky form off the table and instead slumped into the seat next to Remus.

“That’s not funny.” Remus didn’t even bother to look up.

“Well I’ve always found your taste in humor to be questionable, so...” This earned the older boy no response, so he continued, “You know, you’re going to have to speak to us eventually.” 

“I am speaking to you.” His tone was even, purposefully so, and Remus knew his lack of anger was, well, angering Sirius. 

“So we got you in trouble. Big deal. “ Remus scoffed. 

“Not a big deal? We lost Gryffindor 100 points. Now we’re even behind Hufflepuff. And besides, that’s not what this is about.” 

“Fine! What’s it about then?” Sirius’ voice raised above the murmur the two of them had been speaking in and Madam Pince cleared her throat with a glare. 

“I got distracted.” At Sirius’ silence that seemed to urge him to explain further, Remus continued. “I got distracted from my studies. From my future.” 

“Your future?!” Sirius said with a half-laugh. “Hate to break it to you, mate, but you’re eleven.” Remus glanced up. 

“I’m twelve.” 

“What?”

“I’m twelve. My birthday was two days ago.” 

“Oh. Right.” Sirius suddenly seemed to be at a loss for what to say. He opened his mouth after a moment, a look of contrition on his face, and Remus cut him off before he could apologize. 

“Look, Sirius.” Remus said, standing up and tucking his book and parchment neatly under his arm, “For reasons I can’t control it is going to be so much harder for me to go out into the wizarding world once we graduate than it will be for you. That’s not your fault. It’s not mine, either. But this?” He gave his schoolwork a little shake with his arm. “This I can control. So I’m going to take every advantage possible to me, even if it means I have to stay up all night in the library doing it. And I don’t need blokes like you and James who have your whole lives planned out in trust funds dragging me down into your schemes just because you don’t have to worry about the stuff that I do.” The entire speech was said matter-of-factly in that even tone Remus had been using for the whole conversation and dimly Sirius wondered if the smaller boy had been faking his calm. Then Remus turned on his heel, opened the heavy doors, and with a little twist of his thin shoulders and a final dramatic swish of his robes, he was gone. 

Sirius was lost for words. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sirius Black wasn’t exactly cuddly. Meaning, people knew to stay away from him in the hallways, give him the berth he found so comfortable. And if they didn’t, his patent glare and arrogant strut generally delivered the message. 

So he wasn’t bothered by anyone on his way to Potions. Probably good, too, because if he had been, he was at least 85% convinced they’d be on their way to the hospital wing right now, nursing a new pair of horns and Sirius would be sitting in the headmaster’s office listening to another lecture on healthy expressions of anger. 

His stomach grumbled noisily and he plunged his hand inside his bag, hunting for a chocolate frog he had stowed earlier. Having skipped lunch for “cajoling Remus duty” as he, James and Peter called it, he was both ravenous and pissed off, the combination of which amounted in a rather colorful potions session and a classmate of his ending up in the hospital wing anyway, covered in boils resulting from a cloud of steam that had exploded from their shared cauldron. 

So he stalked back to the common room after classes had finished. James and Peter had both known to leave well alone and nightfall arrived with Sirius splayed out on his bed, ear buds jammed in and rock echoing loudly in his head, but all he could hear was Remus’ voice, repeating the words again and again, “blokes like you….whole lives planned out in trust funds…” He fell asleep and woke the next morning with his radio out of battery and a crick in his back, still lying on top of his sheets and his fists balled up in the thin fabric, the mark of a restless sleep. 


	6. The Kitchens

It was Saturday the next time they tried and Remus was trying to read under a shady tree in the courtyard, cool bark against his skin, a warm cloak wrapped around his frozen limbs. It was cold, but all the more chance no one would be out here to bother him. 

His devious plot didn’t work as planned and he barely had time to look up from the pages and register the slightly unruly mess of black hair that stood above him before James started talking. Well, rambling. 

“Look I’m sorry Remus, I really am, but I’m not sorry we pulled the prank just that we got in trouble, you don’t understand, Sirius’ relationship with his family is bloody terrible and Merlin I just wanted him to feel better for a change, you know he acts all stuck up but really he’s just trying to hide the fact that he-“ James broke off. 

It was unsettling, seeing him like this. James was—confident. Popular, smart, funny. He wasn’t the kid that got red in the cheek and started talking a mile a minute when he got in trouble. More like he’d make a wisecrack and land a detention. 

“He what?” Remus said at last, thoroughly perplexed by now. James sighed. 

“Just—will you please just come back? Sirius is really broken up about it.” Remus snorted. 

“What, can’t he find someone else to write his Potions essay?” James’ brow wrinked in confusion. 

“No, Remus—Sirius really likes you. We all do. Look, just—come sit at dinner with us?” Remus’ jaw worked. He stretched out a hand, and James helped pull him to his feet. 

“What time?” He asked finally. James grinned. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Shush.” Remus sounded irritated. He usually was. But this time around, it was plain to see a glint of excitement in his eye. 

The cloak was cramped, even with only the three of them. After the last disaster, there had been a mutual vote to leave Peter out of their next midnight expedition. It had ended with the smaller boy covered in raspberry jam, a loud crash as Peeves knocked over a suit of armor and the sounds of Filch and that bloody cat thundering down the hallway. James had grabbed Peter and dragged him inside the cloak in time, but the fabric was still a little sticky where the jam had rubbed off onto it. 

A bony elbow came colliding into Sirius’ ribcage. 

“Ouch, damn it Remy” Sirius hissed. 

“We have to turn now.” Remus said in way of response, and the three of them paraded around the corner and came to an abrupt halt. 

“What now?” whispered James. Remus licked his lips nervously. 

“Well if your source is reliable, we should be here. “ Sirius grinned. 

“Excellent. Nice work, Remy. Shall we, then?” He didn’t wait for a response before flicking the cloak off of the three of them. 

For a moment, they simply stared at the painting before them, a huge work that depicted a fruit bowl. Hesitantly, James reached a hand out toward the pear and, looking sheepish, began to tickle it. 

The laughter that came from the picture was almost instantaneous and startled the lot of them. A doorknob sprang into place on the picture and Sirius grabbed it without hesitation. 

The kitchens were warm, and the three boys got flour all over the front of their robes wrapping contraband bread in them and Sirius had held up the bottom of his shirt to make a pastry basket that Remus and James tossed what they wanted in. 

The trip back to the common room took considerably longer with all of them waddling underneath the cloak, burdened by sacks of extra food. 

They camped out before the fire, eating and talking until dawn stole in. Laughter burned in his throat and Sirius reflected once more on how glad he was that Remy (as Sirius called him) was spending time with them once more. He didn’t quite know how James’d done it but one evening the kid had shown back up at dinner and for the two weeks since then, the four of them had been closer than ever before. 

He dozed off in front of the fire, a smile on his face and the warm feeling of friendship settling comfortably in the bottom of his stomach. 


	7. Dreams

It was always worse in the winter and with the cold sting of January hanging in the air, Remus began to dread the days that lead down to the full moon. It was only a few days away now, and he had already been feeling peaky, turning pale, and sweating feverishly in class. 

The others hadn’t noticed yet—and they usually didn’t—but Remus knew that his reaction was a little more—heightened this time of year. The fear of his friends finding out had begun to consume his every thought, when he was conscious as much as when he wasn’t. 

It was always around the time he changed that the dreams happened. They were wild and delirious, almost Bacchanalian in quality. Flashing colors slipped in and out. There were blasts of heart-pumping, chest-seizing emotions and there were periods of cold silence and the terrible notion that there was nothing in the universe. And sometimes there were visions. Of people-- sometimes strangers, sometimes not. Sometimes they were his friends. 

Peter’s gloating stare as Remus lay on the ground wounded, his fur matted with blood. A look of cold, removed disgust as James watched it happen, an annoyed glance to a spot of blood that had splashed onto his robes. And Sirius. 

Sirius all reared back, a blank expression and a dripping knife. Sirius plunging it into his body—his corpse?—again and again in a thousand different places. A perverse part of Remus’ mind would ponder Julius Caesar for a moment. 

And Remus would wake, often in the early hours of the morning, and listen to his friends as they slept. In the dreams it never seemed to hurt for some reason. Remus wondered if it would. If it were to happen, how it’d feel. Sometimes it was all too easy to remember that he was only eleven. 

He was shocked out of his reverie by a bright light springing to life from Sirius’ bunk. Remus waited a moment. 

“Sirius?” The whisper came out louder than he wanted it to. He heard Sirius’ springs creak and the curtain draw back. 

“Remus? What’re you doing up?” Remus felt his mouth twist into a smile. 

“I could say the same to you.” There wasn’t a response, for a moment. Then, the creak of floorboards and dust stirring as Sirius pushed aside curtains and sat down in the bed next to Remus. Neither said anything for a moment. 

“I was reading.” Sirius said finally. 

“I didn’t know you could read.” 

“Oh, shut it,” was Sirius’ only response, but he was grinning. The two were quiet for a moment, then—

“Do you want to get out of here?” Sirius’ eyes glinted in the sliver of moonlight coming in through the curtain.

________

It happened so fast that Remus almost didn’t remember sprinting down to the Quidditch pitch and stealing the brooms. He couldn’t tell you specific details about the flight over the castle—just as he couldn’t tell you why, perched on only a few shingles atop the Astronomy tower, he wasn’t scared. 

They watched the sun come up in silence. 

“When do we have to get those back?” Asked Remus, nodding towards the brooms. Sirius murmered as if in agreement. 

“Sirius?” Asked Remus. Sirius started. 

"Oh, uh, yeah, I suppose we should go.” He said. 

“Yeah…” Remus trailed off. Neither made a move to get up. 

“How long have you known them?” Remus asked abruptly.

“What?” Sirius’ face wrinkled in confusion. 

“James and Peter.” 

“Oh….uh, James and I’ve been mates our whole lives. And Peter? Well…our mums are friends.” Remus nodded absently.

“Why?” Sirius said in the silence. 

“I don’t know…I guess I just still don’t know all of you that well yet.” It sounded awkward coming out, and Remus glanced at the floor self-consciously. He looked up to find Sirius studying him. Sirius glanced away. 

“We have to go,” Sirius said curtly. 

The two flew back to the pitch and got back to the dorm before James and Peter woke. 


End file.
